


Far Cry 5 Ficlets

by NaroMoreau



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Church Sex, Double Penetration, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2020-02-27 14:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaroMoreau/pseuds/NaroMoreau
Summary: Here I'll post all the prompts and requests I got on Tumblr. Some of them will be NSFW but not all of them. I'll mark them accordingly. Also, I'll update the tags and the characters and relationships as I post.





	1. Snowed in (John Seed x Reader - NSFW)

You dragged the dead weight of the rifle slumping down your body, the muzzle carving a zigzag pattern on the fresh mud, and the strap digging a painful crease on the flesh of your shoulder. Maybe leaving everyone behind at Fall’s End wouldn’t be counted among your greatest decisions yet still you got what you wanted.

Striding under the heavy rain, your legs grumbled for the harsh treatment while the last rays of the winterly pale sun riddled through the foliage like through a sieve. The chill air seeped through your jacket, gnawing at your very bones, the freezing sensation magnified by your soaked clothes. If you could only find a fucking truck, before the drowsiness took over your brain, and even the voice in your head started to slur in panic.

The inclined path followed for a few yards carpeted by interspersed turfs. You lost your footing stepping into a divot, cursing between clicking teeth, until you spotted a wooden building greeting you in the distance. “ _Well, fuck me_.” With no map and no GPS, you managed to land your ass at the front of Seed Ranch, the first place you wanted go, yet the last place it was good for you.

You hid a growl making your stealthy way around as much as your pained ankle allowed it, noticing that due to the unbearable cold all the guards had been removed. You dashed among crates and barrels while above you the now purple sky unleashed a cleansing fury, every drop of water drubbing in staccato over you, like under the direction of an overexcited conductor.

Your lungs fought to give you the air you needed, and perhaps it was time to actually rest for a bit. The flooded surface splashed under your boots as you sought an almost dry spot, and crouched in a secluded corner. Around you the rain turned into soft snow, delicate flakes carried by the wind, and you glanced at your nails. They were blue. It wasn’t that bad, you thought, as you forced your fingers to grip the flesh of your arms and your teeth chattered uncontrollably, biting the tip of your tongue. The coppery flavor of your blood swamped in your mouth but the pain was almost nonexistent. The edges of your sight blurred into jagged black, before you caught faint, muffled footsteps approaching you. If you could only move your hand.

“My dear Deputy, what do I owe this honor?” John Seed ducked next to you before reaching a hand to touch your almost comatose body. “Jesus, deputy, you’re freezing!” His voice tapped in your ears, the mocking tone completely gone and replaced by strained anguish as he got rid of his coat, putting it over you in a swift movement.

He lifted you from the ground, cradling you against his chest, protective hands grasping you hard. “It’s ok, my dear, everything is going to be alright,” he reassured you whispering into your ear, and the only thing you could do was shudder like a newborn pigeon.

He was almost running into the house, but his words still reached your words under a steady rhythm. “Hey, darling,” he muttered as your conscience balanced at the edge of oblivion, “focus on my voice, don’t fall asleep Deputy, don’t!”

You tried, even if half your mind wanted to, just because it was him, and you’d go to great lengths to sour his life, but the desperation running on every word was a whiplash in your face. His orders had to be important.

“How do you get yourself in this kind of–” he trailed off, clutching you even tighter against him and you leaned into him. “It’s alright, sh, you’re safe now,” he said with a sense of finality.

You crossed the threshold of the house you once saw as an enemy fort, securely in his arms, and it irked you how good it felt. His spicy mint scent was one of the few things you were still able to recognize and it grounded you, every little wisp traveling to your haggard brain, reminding you who you were, who he was, even if you were still too weak to respond.

He placed you on the bearskin rug in front of the big fire at the center of the living room, tossing carelessly his soaked coat aside. Your entire body shuddered as he peeled the layers of sodden cloth out of your body.

“Listen to me, deputy, I’m not going to harm you,” he said taking off your boots and pulling down your jeans, “but you’ll die if I don’t get these off you, you hear me?”

You locked eyes with him, and it struck you the deep concern etched in his brow, blue eyes surveying your face almost with pain. You laid naked on the rug in no time and he dashed off your side just to comeback ten seconds later carrying two magnificent wool blankets he placed over you. He was as soaked as you, and you lifted a dainty finger to point at him.

“John,” you finally said with a gruesome effort, “your clothes– _wet–cold_.”

He chuckled, grasping your hand. “My dear, why do you worry about me? I-- I haven’t exactly treated you in the most gracious way.”

His hands made short work of his vest, and his shirt, and kneeled as he was next to you, you drew your fingers forward to trace the skein of tattoos and scars. The numbing cold was dissipating slowly, but now all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him, to live again the fleeting moment when you were able to hear his heartbeat.

“John, come ‘ere,” you said, blinking slowly, “please, I’m cold.”

He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe your words, and quickly shuck off his trousers and underwear, sliding next to you under the blankets. He was warmer than you and between the strong fire at your back and the maddening heat in front of you, you finally felt a bit more alive.

You closed your arms around his body, pressing every inch of you to every inch of him, and he rubbed your arms and back, trying to diminish the shivers and goosebumps that flared on your skin. You tilted your head up, catching the blush on his cheeks, as your feet bumped against his shins and your muscles relaxed.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked you with a wavering voice, and it only took you a roll of your hips to know why.

“Yes,” you said with the faintest of whispers, “but– I don’t– why are you doing this?”

He heaved a hard sigh that mingled with yours, his arm possessively tugged around your waist. “I– I don’t know, I don’t know really. Maybe you’re waiting for this groundbreaking reason, but the truth is I don’t know.” He shifted, holding you even tighter. “Maybe-- maybe is a sin, a blur clouding my mind, but when I saw you there, dying out of cold, I told myself I couldn’t let that happen.”

“’Cause—‘cause of what Joseph told you?” you offered, dreading his answer deep in your heart.

“No, no, no,” he said placing his chin on the crown of your head, “no, little bird, because of me. What if I told you, you changed something,” he grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, “in here? Jesus Deputy, I just--”

“Yes.” You gave your hips another roll and trapped his hard cock between your legs, his chest heaving with hitching breaths.

“Are- are you sure?” he gruffed, blue eyes delving deep into yours.

You kissed him as a whole answer, his tongue warring for dominance and you let him, your hips rocking with his rock hard cock rubbing between your folds. His mouth trailed down your neck, teeth nipping at your skin hard enough to bruise. He flipped you on your back and pinned down your wrists to the rug, your thighs clasping at his hard on.

“You really have no idea what you do to me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He whispered with a sliver of something wicked in his voice, and god in heaven, a gush of liquid trickled down the apex of your thighs.

A moaned escaped you, as he palmed one breast, diving down to catch your nipple in his mouth, his other hand stealing down your abdomen, his fingers trickling at your entrance and curling over your clit. “A little excited are we not?”

You wanted to respond, but your words were dulled by your whimpers, his voice soaking into your skin. He thrust forward, the friction of his dick against your clit dragging small hums of pleasure out of your throat.

“Please, John,” you begged, your fingernails raking as he moved, pressing against you in all the right ways.

Your legs fell open, circling around his waist and now it was his time to gasp and groan as you closed your hand around his dick, to align him to your entrance just so. He devoured your lips as he slid slowly inside you, giving you time to adjust to every inch intruding in you. And you were certainly thankful for it, because he was by far the biggest you’d ever take. Your rough exhalations fanned against his neck and a growl tore from his throat unbidden the second he was fully inside you.

“My dear, you feel like heaven,” he grunted against your lips, now rocking his hips and you realized this was going to be a very short trip to the end line. Every ridge and vein in his cock stroked in all the right angles, his tip hitting against your sweet spot making you writhe and cry out with every thrust of his hips.

You were bracketed between his arms, his body arching against yours, and your legs closed tighter around him. You wanted him closer, wanted to trip over the line of your orgasm, grazing at it with every pump, with every assault of his cock to your cunt.

“Don’t fight it,” he mumbled, and it didn’t surprised you when your walls clenched around him, your back arching as the spark of white flared up behind your eyelids.

He kneeled between your thighs, hoisting your hips up and slammed every inch of that delicious dick inside you. “God, you feel good, so wet, so tight,” he breathed to the empty living room, “and just for me, my Deputy, my little bird.”

With a feral growl he came inside you, his body shaking apart until he finally collapsed on top of you.

He propped on one elbow, kissing every free spot in your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I didn’t save you for you to be bound to me by an obligation,” he said with a neutral tone but a possessive hand curled around you, fastening you to him, and you suspected that pushing him away would swiftly bring back the Inquisitor from deep within him. “You can leave if you want.”

It was really lucky that what you felt, was solid enough to keep yourself steady under those hypnotic blue eyes. “I want to stay, John, because of you, not because I’m bound to,” you said, reveling in the sensation of his come now dripping down your thighs. “I’m yours.”

He smiled giving you a sloppy kiss, all fervor and yearning, as through the window the flakes eddied down in the freezing wind.


	2. Like if you needed more fuel (Sharky Boshaw x Reader - NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was "We've been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?!"

You woke up to the smothering sensation of having the warm, sticky skin of Sharky plastered to your back, a scruffy beard rasping your shoulder, a tattooed arm draped over your waist and his cum seeping down between your thighs. You fixed your bleary eyes on those slender fingers almost grazing your taut belly, trying to adjust your sight to the near darkness of the room as he kept sleeping peacefully, breathing in, breathing out, holding you next to him. Images crammed in your mind from the last two days spent atop, beneath, sidled and bent over before him, as he stretched your cunt more tightly and filled you more completely than any lover before him. A faint throb ached in your core.

It’d seemed like a sound advice, to take a break for a weekend and when Sharky had offered Chateau Boshaw as an oasis away from the blasts and the blood, all it took you to accept was a cold one, a bag of chips and the offer to just sit and watch a movie in the comfiest way possible. But then the night turned cold, and you nestled your body between his strong arms, resting your head on his chest and one sniff of his scent was enough for the need to flare at the apex of your thighs. He noticed your heavy breaths, and definitely heard the soft moan leaving your lips as your overactive imagination tossed lewd scenarios with you both as stars, between blinks.

Before the hour passed you were riding his cock, your tits bouncing on his face as he sucked your nipples with the desperation of a castaway. It wasn’t like nothing you’d experienced before; he was eager to please you, fleeting touches almost reverent on your flesh, and he couldn’t help to mumble an almost imperceptible “I love you” when he came inside you the first time. 

It didn’t matter. You loved him too and so you said, kissing him in the aftermath of your orgasm. You thought that was it, as both of you fell into a dreamless sleep before you woke up with his head shoved between your thighs. What followed, faded in a swirl of pleasure and sweat, as he pushed you over the precipice more times than you could count. And now it was you the one eager to please him, swallowing his load, licking your lips to not leave a single drop out, and letting him fill you to the point you felt the overflow trickling down your ass.

 He’d kissed you, muttering things you half-grasped, some of them making you think he was baulking at the idea you were really in your sane mind. Because things like these never happened to him. You brushed his doubts aside with words and actions, and finally you both landed exhausted on his bed, his arms wrapped around you and his nose buried in the crook of your neck. 

What led you to your current location. You stirred in his arms, his hand now groping your right breast, whimpering in his sleep. His cock stiffened next to your upper thigh, and you brows arched in surprise, because really, how many times he could go at it?

“Hey shorty,” he whispered dreamily into your ear, rutting his cock into the cleft of your ass, and pulling you tighter against him, “you smell so good.”

“Really?,” you said and you almost couldn’t recognize the hoarse pitch of your own voice. Apparently screaming your lungs off while he fucked you against the mattress, the counter, and the wall had wrecked your throat entirely. 

“Mmhm,” he mumbled, and your breath caught in your throat when you felt his fingers quirking at your entrance, “shit babe, you’re so really fucking wet.”

“Fuck man, it’s all yours.” You couldn’t help but ground your ass against his crotch, wiggling your hips, playfully.  

He growled, kissing the line of your neck, traveling to where it joined with your shoulder, and sucking a bruise in your skin. “You wanna go again?”

“Jesus fuck Shark, we’ve been ah– we’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?!” You stammered with his hand spread on your neck, calloused thumb drawing circles on your flesh. 

“Only ‘cause it’s you boo,” he said in a wispy breath, “fuck babe, you’re like a fucking drug.”

You let him guide you to another climax, and he kissed down the hollow crease of your spine, his hand moving your body until you were flat on your belly over the mattress. He reached the dimples at the small of your back, licking your skin with flat, broad strokes. You shivered when he spread your cheeks, tongue surveying the line of your ass before kneeling between your thighs. 

“Shit, shorty, you got such a nice ass,” he said huskily, grabbing two handfuls, before snapping at them, and  your breath hitched at the pleasurable pain, your cheeks cherry red. 

“Are you gonna, ah– tease me forever or are you actually gonna fuck me?” You bristled with desperation. The whole weekend had you more than ready for round number three thousand and your swollen folds throbbed painfully, needing to clench around something, to clasp around his dick. 

At this point your cunt was molded for his cock and the drag and sink was not painful anymore. 

“Sorry babe, I just–,” he heaved, and you felt the quiver across his body as he lowered down on you, sneaking a hand below your body, spreading it open over your abdomen. 

He brought you closer to him, sinking into you with stuttering movements of his hips. You bit your lip hearing his whimpers as you allowed an inch more with every thrust, the fullness shattering your will to keep steady and extend the moment as much as you could. 

When he was fully sheathed inside you, your moans and his gaps blended in the sweltering atmosphere, and he withdrawn until only his tip kept you open for him, before slamming down again. His thighs smacked against your ass, and you felt the ripple of your flesh as he pounded harder and faster. Your over sensitive core was just a flick away to break and you rocked your hips upwards to meet him in every downstroke. 

“Oh, fuck baby, you’re so good, so tight,” he whispered in your ear, his hands settling on your hips for leverage, “can’t– fuck!– can’t have enough of –”

In that moment the dam broke again and you hollered, just as he said you would, clenching around him with a vice grip, his pulsating dick ramming into you with desperation. 

“Imma– Imma bust here shorty, fuck!”

Your core received until the last drop he gave you, and Sharky finally dropped over your back, kissing the nape of your neck tenderly.

He sprawled next to you, panting, and grasped your chin to savor your lips. “Fuck babe, I love ya so fucking much.” 

You chuckled wrapping your arms around his lean body, snuggling closer to his warmth. “Damn, Shark, that was so fucking good, I’m kinda sad the weekend’s over though.”

He kissed the crown of your head, hiding a sly smile. “There will be other weekends, babe, you can count on that.”


	3. For Love I Come (Sharky Boshaw x F!Deputy x Jacob Seed - NSFW

At some point Rook’s gonna have to choose. To actually speak loud and clear instead of going in roundabout ways whenever they poke and probe at her to figure out what’s the deal.

There’s no deal to be dealt with as far as Rook concerns. She’s perfectly happy the way things are, foraying into the Vet’s Center whenever she feels like it, to be completely wrecked by Jacob, in that weird and unusually comfortable dynamic of two people joined by the fray ends of their own needs. Inches away from warm intimacy.

And that makes the other end of her unsought arrangement, very complicated. Toeing the line of dangerous if she can judge by Jacob’s face every time she leaves him. But Sharky. Rook can say without the sliver of a doubt there’s something going on between them that surpasses the fucking. He gets her. And for what she knows, that’s something that’s always considerably underrated.

Damn choices. That’s always been the thorn on Rook’s side. The reason why she ended up taking home Bugger and Whiskers when she finally decided she wanted a pet. A pet. But when the puppy had wiggle that little tail of his, she didn’t even think it twice.

And five years into the future, is the same thing all over again. Rook can’t keep waltzing around tacit and implied statements. Especially because now she has a pretty good idea of what she wants, an idea that had jackhammered its way into her brain since the last time she visited the Marina looking for Addie’s advice. But it seems ludicrous, because they both are as immiscible as water and oil.

“You leaving already?”

Jacob sits on the flat cot they spend their nights in whenever she decides she misses him. One rough hand sits at the small of her back and Rook can’t stop a broken sigh from escaping her. Those few steps to the door are always the hardest.

“Yeah, have to catch up on a lot of things.”

“Already late to burn down half the County huh?” He scoots closer, burying his face and what’s probably post-orgasm induced affection in the crook of her neck. Rook bites her lip trying to saddle her thumping heart, because it tastes too much like the real deal.

“I think John misses me already,” she says with a smirk, leaning to kiss him softly, catching a half-grunt from Jacob on her mouth. “Don’t want him to feel left out, you know how he’s like.”

She scrambles off the bed, picking up her discarded clothes, feeling his eyes taking in the tiniest detail of her. He’s counting her bruises and marks, she knows, trying to determine which are his and which are– well, not. He’s too good of a huntsman to not read the signs.

Why hasn’t he snapped her neck until now? She has no clue. A lot of restraint perhaps. And a good amount of good ole feelings. She’s willing to jackknife into the belief he has them all.

“When are you coming back?”

There’s longing grating in the low pitch of his voice that makes Rook’s breath catch in her throat. Looking back at him is a mistake. She can’t fight those baby blues of his. They always manage to make her weak in the knees.

“I dunno. Two weeks?”

“That’s a long time, Rook,“ he says, as if he actually cares. Which Rook knows he does.

She clenches her jaw to avoid thinking in the annoying fluttering butterflies in her stomach. “Why? You need me for something?”

“Playing dumb is not your best trait, darling.”

“And speaking your mind, clearly isn’t yours, old man.”

He rumbles with laughter, tilting his head back, baring his throat to her. All those powerful muscles tighten like chords, and she stares a bit at the long expanse of his neck wanting to dive back into bed and just hold him and be held by him. But Sharky is also waiting and she feels torn.

Rook sighs.

“Why are you doing this?” Jacob finally asks, glancing at her with a frown.

“Doing what?” She wants to sound nonchalant as she balances on one leg while putting on her jeans. Rook isn’t sure she wants to see everything they have go southways. What is exactly gonna happen once the bubble of unsaid words ripple off her mouth.

“You know damn well what,” Jacob pokes again.

“Scout’s word, I don’t.”

“Jesus fuck, Rook, you’re infuriating.”

Jacob snaps with the brewed frustration of weeks of unanswered silence but Rook refuses to bend her knee. She doesn’t want to see her world shifting into something bleak if he’s not around.

So she stalls. “And now you’re starting to sound like John.”

“Not funny,” he grouses.  

"Yeah, I don’t know what’s the thing going on between you and him, but you guys need to talk it out before Joseph forces you both to do it.”

She sees a mash-up of emotions on his face, and a deadly stare, Jacob Seed’s specialty. And she gives up.

Rook flops at his side, shoulders hunched. “Fine, fine! What do you wanna know?”

Jacob grabs her chin and tilts her head up until the only thing she sees is him. Which is always a sight. “Stop playing games and tell me why you keep coming back to me.”

“I um, I just- I really like the cold,” she babbles, “and the whole Jack London aesthetic you have going here, like I really dig that-”

“Rook.”

“And you have cute dogs-”

“Rook.”

She rolls her eyes at the whispered command to mow down her bullshit, but braces to spill the anxiety off her chest.

“Okay, fine. I like you, okay?” Rook sighs at her own confession, not wanting to stop, because if she does there’s not a certified chance she’ll finish. “You ain’t as bad as you think you are, in fact, you’re fucking amazing and every time I go I just wanna go back the moment I’m pass the fences but–”

“But what?”

“Do you really want me to say it?” She’s in pain, absolutely fucking unnecessary pain.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t leave him.”

His fingers squeeze her arms, just so and his face goes dark. She sees the tense line of his jaw spasming under the pressure of gritted teeth. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know Jacob, okay?” Rook’s angry. Hurt and upset, and a million more things that spike up too fast and recede after, so she can’t name them. “Look, I never lied to you, we never said this was an exclusive kinda thing, and honestly? If you want me to go and never come back, if you want to, I don’t know– kick me out of your life, then you gotta say it, ‘cause otherwise–”

She stops because the thought is just venom. She can’t live without him, not after everything she already gave up in her life. For once, just once she doesn’t want to renounce something.

“What if I want this to be exclusive?” Jacob says, far more calmed than she expected. But it’s just an act, ‘cause his shoulders are slumped and there’s a waver in his voice totally alien for him.

“And why would you want that?”

“I thought Deputies were smart, perhaps I was wrong,” he quips, wrapping his hand around her neck and pulling her in, until her forehead rests against his.

“Cut the crap, Jacob,“ she hisses.

“I love you Rook.”

Her throat is dry, and the kiss that follows sweeps coherence and preformed ideas aside. It feels right. Like home. But the hollow that it’s always there when she just has one and not both, weights more.

“I can’t do it, I–” she says, tongue tripping over her teeth and words that are not enough.“ I really like–, fuck, I really love you, but I can’t.”

“You know I could just kill him right?”

Rook laughs to dissipate the terrifying image because he could. Probably very easily. “Yeah, but you won’t. You ain’t like that Jacob,“ she says to reassure herself, as he clutches to the sides of her flannel with a white-knuckle grip.

“Then what you want from me?” He says with a lilt that sounds heartbreakingly close to a plea.

A prickly wave of heat rushes up, settling on her cheeks, pushing the words out of her throat and into a sputtered mess. “A threesome.” Jacob doesn’t move or make any sign to acknowledge her statement. Rooks blinks in utter confusion until she sees a pale tint under the scarring and grooves of his face. “Just to see how it goes, how we work together-” She hurriedly adds.

“I think some beers over some grilled meat would work better for it, sweetheart-” Jacob says, and the fact that he’s speaking and not throwing her out St. Francis is good enough of a sign. He cups her cheek and Rooks heaves a soft breath of relief.

“I know, I know, but hear me out okay?“, she says, clasping her eyes shut, bringing his rough fingers to her lips, "I love you Jacob, but I’m tired to keep my life split, hiding things I shouldn’t be hiding. I want you both and that’s non negotiable.”

Through the cracks of the old windows, the wind howls, batting the threadbare curtains, a perfect set up for the anticipation boiling in Rook’s blood.

“Shit, I must be outta my fucking mind,” he says.

——————————

“What we doing here, shorty?”

Convincing Sharky is surprisingly more difficult than convincing Jacob. He huffs and kicks at the base of his old couch, killing the old and probably moldy thing for good. It takes her at least two hours to drill the idea into his thick skull, just to realize that he’s just afraid. And the words pour out unbidden. She’ll leave him because, he ain’t worth the trouble. Which is silly, and she tells him so.

The pick up truck stops just outside the fences of St. Francis.

“Remember what we talked about?” She says, eyeing his hands clasping the buttstock of his shotgun as she struggles out the truck. Rook’s counting her breaths, trying to steady herself, and don’t let the spark of fear of the unknown tumble off the decision she just made.   

“Yeah, but– Are we picking up a judge to go or what?”

“What?”

She makes her way into the old building followed by a Sharky-on-edge. At the entrance Rooks nods at a waving Peggie. “Hi, Miss Rook, brother Jacob is waiting for you in his office.” The man is all sunny smiles and bright nonchalance which is weird and just hammers Rook in the head at how off this is.

Sharky scoffs at her side. “Miss Rook? Dep, how often–”

He freezes mid step.

“C’mon, Shark.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he almost yelps, “I thought–”

“Not here!”

She sees it in his face. He’s about to splutter his concocted half conclusions that will hold a good amount of info of what she does and how she fucks in her free time and that’s certainly something she doesn’t want the Peggies to find out. Not anyone for that matter.

Rook pulls him by the sleeve until they are in a secluded corridor, just around the corner of Jacob’s office that doubles as bedroom. “Now, spill it.”

Sharky’s eyes glint between confused blinks. “I thought– Uh, I thought you meant John.”

“What? Why?” It comes off as squeak more suiting in a toddler’s toy than in a grown ass woman.

“I dunno, you’ve seen him,” Sharky shrugs, “he’s fuckin loaded and suave and y’know, all those things chicks dig, and uh, you kept talking ‘bout a dude who tickled your fancy and I dunno Dep, I just– I thought it was the psychotic fuckface.”

She skips over, a little overeager. “Well, it’s not, does that change anything?”

Sharky chuckles and leans, chasing her nearness. “Fuck, Dep, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Rook wraps her arms around him, pushing herself up on her toes to plant her lips on his. "I sure do.” He rolls his hips grinding against her, always ready, and at half mast if the bulge rubbing on her thigh is what she thinks it is.

A door creaks nearby and common sense wedges in, so she pushes Sharky away, not too bluntly she hopes, because this is not how she wants Jacob to find out.

Just in time.

“I was wondering where you were,” he says, voice sizzling with something Rook can’t quite place. “My guards said you checked in the complex five minutes ago.” His gaze slides off Sharky and onto the wall as if he was nothing more than a blemish on the paint.

“Yeah, I uh– got lost.”

Jacob raises an eyebrow. “Come ere, sweetheart.”

They reach the door of his lair and Rook swallows an impatient huff.

“Get in and let’s set this before I’ll change my mind,” Jacob looks past her shoulder, “and send your Drubman lap dog packing, he can wait with my guards at the entrance.”

“Uh, I’m a Boshaw, not a Drubman, dude.”

‘Big difference.” Jacob folds his arms across his chest.  “Now kitten, send him off.”

“Yeah, uh, I–” Rook clears her throat, “I can’t do that, Jake.”

She feels Sharky’s arm slinging around her waist, and sees Jacob’s face distorting into the most absolutely perfect depiction of someone who’s about to have a stroke.

“You okay?”

His eyes narrow and for a moment Rook thinks he’s gonna pounce on Sharky like one of his judges.

The tight line on his jaw snaps. “Fuck, I just lost a few hundred bucks,” he bristles, shattering the heavy silence.

He turns on his heels and steps off the way signaling them to get in. Rook is greeted by a newly bought, expensive-looking bed replacing his old one.

“I told John to buy it for me, and now I can’t make him pay for it.” Jacob answers to the nonexistent question, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Fuck, darling, I thought you were talking about John.”

“What?”

“See, Dep?–” Sharky chirps, turning to Jacob to pat him on the shoulder completely unaffected by the deadly stare, “you and I are in the same frequency, amigo.”

Rook chooses a spot just next to him to flop down, nudging him on the shoulder. “Yeah, well, I was not.”

“No kidding.” He doesn’t laugh but the smirk on his face breaks some of the tension lingering in the air.

Sharky takes it as a cue to collapse next to her. “Now, excuse me if I’m outta line–”

“You are,” Jacob says.

“– but I ain’t waiting for you to figure out your brotherly issues standing up like some mouth-breathing peggie, no offense man, my legs are killin’ me and I– uh, wow, this is soft,” he says bouncing a little, “like real quality you have here, Jacob, can I call you Jacob?”

“No.”

“Anyway, I was just sayin’ we need some booze.”

“I thought you were incapable of saying something smart, Boshaw, but you’re right.”

“No. We’re doing this sober or I’m done here.”

They both shrink at her sides.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s like– like I’m wasted already,” Sharky gruffs.

“You got it right,” Jacob scoffs.

Rook can almost feel the silence, thick, sagging her shoulders and tries to think on how to actually turn words into action. Jacob’s thigh presses against hers and Sharky’s arm brushes her own. Up until now she’d never realized how fucking warm they both are, like human furnaces melting her little by little. Her jacket feels constricting.

She’s definitely not ready for Sharky taking off his pants in one swift move and jumping on the bed. ”'Aight, let’s do this,“ he says with the violent twang of an 80’s action movie which effectively kills the pretense they’re not there to fuck.

Rook can’t do another thing than grunt.

“How do you wanna do this, sweetheart?” Jacob sighs, while his hand brushes her thigh up and down.

“I just–” She swallows a hard gulp while a jolt careens down her spine. “I want you both– In me.” Rook shudders hearing her own shaky, definitely harsh demand. Sharky sits at her side again, taking her jacket off and tossing it over a nearby table.

Jacob kisses her then, tongue darting into her mouth until the whole awkward angle of the situation gets swiped by his closeness. It’s soft, sensual, thick with want, and a hint of despair. She doesn’t have time to worry about Sharky, because he’s already tracing the line of her jaw with chapped lips. A hand skitters down her shirt, rolling a stiff nipple and the room echoes her keening mewl. They’re testing her, vying for her responses, while she’s falling apart.

Air gets puffed out of her lungs in moans and small whimpers that are certainly not dignified, as she flexes her arms to hold onto something. Jacob’s shoulders, Sharky’s chest, she’s not sure. Her body is already responding to the unspoken ideas, soaking her underwear, enough to know she’s dripping on whatever is beneath her, two sets of hands wandering, when she’s used to one. It already feels like it’s too much when is not near enough. And they grope, and fondle, while their mouths nip and lick until they leave her bare, pulsing and wanton. Her clothes are off in swift and hungry movements that have her heart hammering against her ribcage.

Sharky’s fingers prod at her entrance, while Jacob’s rough, big hands clasp her thighs pulling them apart. Rook fights to keep her eyes open, glazed with a fog of need, just to be met with pupils blown wide by lust.  

Sharky soon pushes two fingers inside her and she arches into Jacob’s chest with a short gasp and a really tacky buck of her hips forward. So eager that’s just embarrassing.

“Easy, Boshaw,” Jacob warns, voice edge sharper than the blade of his knife.

“Dude, I know what I’m doing.”

And he does, damn if she knows. His fingers curl and his thrusts are slow, deliberately scissoring to prepare her for more. For which one of them, she still doesn’t know nor cares.

Rook’s head spins when Jacob’s questioning fingers reach her slit, brushing where Sharky is sliding in and out until he adds one. Her breath comes out in stuttered gasps at the sensation of her walls struggling to accommodating them both.  

“I–I…” Words dissolve in a flow of saliva, body jerking under the uncoordinated assault.

“Yes?” Jacob says, licking her ear.

“I can’t– I just– need–”

“We know, shorty, we’re gonna take care of you.”

Their fingers are gone in the blink of an eye, and Rook clenches painfully around thin air, biting her own lip.

“Come 'ere.”

Is Jacob who pulls her over him, easily, so easily she whimpers a little at the manhandling. Her own slick drips down her thighs, sodding the fabric of his pants. Soon she’s clambered over his lap, naked and flushed and sweating.

“Relax, doll,” Sharky breathes against her neck, kneeled down behind her and very much naked for what Rook can feel against her ass.  

When did it happen?

Sharky ruts forward, cock nestling between her asscheeks, flaring goosebumps all over her. Rook feels the urge to palm at her clit to find some release but she falls forward, pressing palms flat over Jacob’s chest, thanking he still has his shirt on so she can clutch at it as if her life depended on it.

“Nice and easy, kitten,” he rasps pulling out his cock, already leaking and swollen and just perfect as she remembers. His jeans scrap at her inner thighs as she tries to balance to keep her legs apart, bracketing his hips. She doesn’t wanna know, doesn’t wanna think about what his brothers would do to Sharky and her if they find out. She doesn’t even know if she’s in the liberty to scream her lungs off, as she is positively sure she will in a few minutes.

Sharky places a wet kiss on the nape of her neck just then, making her shiver. “Just breath, babe.”

Jacob smirks underneath her, clasping her hips and eases her down on his lap until she’s fully seated on the cradle of his hips. She fights a moan at the hard stretch, rolling her hips to try to adjust at the intrusion.

“All good?” Jacob groans, running his palm up,cupping her breast, and she mumbles a ‘fuck, yes’, as if her breath wasn’t coming in hitching gusts or her thighs weren’t quivering at his sides. He feels so good inside her, and she rises to her knees just to flop back down, stealing a deep moan from him.

“You feel so good, sweetness, so damn good.”

Still, he doesn’t move and it’s driving her up the wall, even if right now she’s completely lost to the point she can’t count to ten.

“Are you ready for me, babe?” Sharky says to her temple.

Rook nods. It’s the only thing that she seems to be doing since this whole thing began. They’re gonna split her apart and fuck if she’s not eager to be used, and be full and fucking satisfied.

One moment later there’s a good amount of lube on Sharky’s fingers, as he slips them inside her ass. Jacob pushes upwards just when Sharky stretches her open, and it’s enough to drag whines from the back of her throat she’s completely unable to bridle in.

“Can I?” Sharky finally asks.

She chokes on a sob at the loss of his fingers. “Yeah, please– just, please.”

The fact that Jacob has gone still, tells her they’re really trying to, despite whatever misplaced sense of possession they have about her.

The tip of Sharky’s cock press against her ass and she almost goes cross-eyed once he’s inside her to the hilt.

“Fuck.” She scratches at the broad expanse of Jacob’s chest, slamming her eyes shut. “Shitfuck-shit-”

The sensation almost makes her believe her spine will tear in half, but the dull pain of the first thrust is gone in seconds, replaced by a jolt of pleasure that jumbles her brains. They’d done this before, but never like this, when she’s sure the heavy press of their cocks inside is the perfect definition of stuffed.

“Keep forgetting how tight you are, shorty,” Sharky pants on her neck, one hand splayed on her lower back, the other just above one of Jacob’s, trying as he might to balance behind her. “All good?”

“Should we stop?” Jacob asks, and Rook can’t but be amazed at his restraint as she feels him throbbing inside her.

“No– please, don’t. I want it, fuck–”

She rolls her hips with heightened senses, and just then they push inside her, completely out of sync, completely out of whatever shred of grounding reality they all were grasping until now. Is not something she was expecting, the perfect, astounding fullness that makes her want more, and move, buck up and down, and back again, hips out of her damn control.

“Slow down, babe, or this is gonna be a helluva short trip,” Sharky moans, gripping her chin and tilting her head to the side so he can kiss her. A kiss that soon becomes an exchange of broken gasps that she has too soon to let go to catch her breath.

The slick slide of their cocks along her walls is slowly propeling her to the edge, and she hears herself beg for more, faster, deeper with a stark voice of sheer need.

“So greedy, darling, you think you can take it all?”

She’d answer if she remembered how to speak so she grunts in acquiescing.

Jacob’s arms snuck around her waist, bringing her closer to catch her lips in a stifling kiss, all teeth and tongue and the sweet taste of what’s right. This right here.

The broken rhythm soon establishes as a constant wave, a heartbeat that guides every pounding and sink, and she manages to find some leverage to play her own tricks. And then it’s her the one fucking them deep, harsh and quickly, even if her knees ache and she’s not sure if she will be able to walk tomorrow. Or the day after. But their moans and whines are good enough of a fuel until her legs ache and she can’t take it anymore.

They’re all rough pants and moans, not letting her do what she wants, determined to make her come apart on their cocks, before they fill her up. She can’t keep track of every move and drag, vaguely registering how deep they’re sinking, Sharky yanking her back so he can lick and kiss every spot he can reach.

A hand sneaks down and presses a flat thumb to her clit, but she’s too far lost on their cocks pushing hard and hitting every right spot inside her to even notice to whom it belongs to. The pleasure burns close to scorching, so overwhelming she doesn’t realize she’s sobbing. Her arms, now gripping Jacob’s biceps, feel weak, just when the waves of her orgasm start crashing against her. She trips over the edge with a special hard press of Jacob’s dick, just when Sharky decides to give deep roll of his hips and every muscle in her body goes tight and on fire, everything around her petering out into sparks of white as she comes, harder than ever before.

“Oh shit,” Sharky moans in her hair, as his hips slap against her ass, speed faltering.

Jacob’s movements lose momentum for a second, as she feels his cock practically sodden with her release. “Fuck.”

They guide her through her peak and undoing, as she finally falls slack over Jacob’s shoulder, silently and thoroughly enjoying every pound and harsh thrust. She considers fighting back for a second, to move and buck against them but her legs are of no use, and she whines as they chase their own releases, making her body jerk as they use her for their own pleasure.

Jacob comes first with the familiar growl, amplified a hundred times over, stilling after a deep push and she knows, she positively feels her insides painted with his thick cum. His baby blues stand out against his reddened cheeks, lips parted to regain his breath and Rook kisses him again.

Sharky’s push, rough and off any rhythm, slams her down on Jacob’s chest until there’s a part sob-part grunt bouncing on the room before his hips go flush against her ass, until he finally slides out and she feels his come dripping out her rear.  

“Whoa.” It’s an exclamation that comes between ragged breaths from Sharky’s part and she sees it mirrored in Jacob’s eyes. She’s a mess. An utter, sweaty, satisfied mess and she loves it.

The bed is big enough they can all fit without smashing each other’s essential bits and once the heat has considerably tuned down, she pulls the covers over them.  

“You know Jacob? I was lying,” she says, as she turns on her side to face him, her hand drawing circles on Sharky’s hip, “I hate the cold.”

Jacob chuckles, staring at the ceiling and maneuvering beneath the covers to kick off his jeans. “Yeah well, I think we can make something to correct that, darling.”

Rook turns to kiss Sharky, just to turn to Jacob after it. “Thanks– seriously, to both of you.”

“It was good.” Jacob grins. Not just at her. Looking behind her.

Rook is a hundred percent ecstatic.

“Yeah, within my top five– no, top three experiences.”

They finally share a laugh that pulls at Rook’s heart, filling it with searing bliss as the two men she loves, share a bed, sandwiching her in the most perfect way.

“Hey, Jake-man, uh, y’know I’ve been thinking.” Sharky turns to look directly at Jacob, slinging an arm over Rook’s hip.

“About?”

“I think– I think I know how to make John pay for the bed if you wanna–”

Jacob’s face shifts in a shit eating grin. “I’ll let you restock from my armory, if you can pull it off.”

“Deal.”

Rook feels herself growing tired, exhausted, every joint and muscle screaming and her brain slowly fading into sleep. “So– can we do this again?”

She knows she has no right of asking more of them. Not when they’re just crossing the line of acquaintances to acquaintances that fuck the same woman, but she hopes.

“Sure, why not?” Sharky mumbles, already sprawled on his side of the bed.

Rook turns to Jacob, with what she thinks are her best pleading eyes.

He blows air hard, brows pulling closer in what seems a deep furrow and her stomach sinks.

“Maybe.” He smirks.


	4. Eyes wide open (Joseph Seed x F! Deputy - NSFW)

Behind the lectern, Joseph wrings his fingers and lets out a sharp breath. It’s not as if he’s nervous. Perhaps a bit anxious. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since the last time he felt like this about someone. Always waiting for her to show up as if he couldn’t concentrate otherwise. It’s hard to mask it though. His attention can’t be astray from his duty because his flock needs him, especially now. 

And now more than ever he’s determined to strengthen the Project, having something especially precious to protect. 

It’s just right then when he sees her.

His jaw tenses of its own accord and the air is suddenly puffed out of his lungs. There’s a dry click in his throat as he swallows, his cheeks flushing at improper -- _certainly_ _impure_ \-- thoughts. He tries to deflect them, thinking about his sermon, but he finds no comfort there. His eyes swivel from the line of her chest up her face, where she’s looking at him with the biggest smile. 

He clears his throat making an effort to smile nonchalantly, watching her take a seat in the front row next to Faith. Right in front of him. 

//

By now he’s acutely aware of his dick already at full mast inside his pants, forcing him to keep his place behind the lectern. Her stiff nipples poke through the thin fabric and he feels his lips dry, stuttering in his speech. Big drops of sweat fall down his temples as he tries to sail through words that just haul his mind to  _ wrong  _ places. 

“ Lest again, when I come, God humble  me among you, and I mourn many of them that sinned  before, and have not done penance for the uncleanness  and fornication and lasciviousness that they have committed, says the Apostle.” Joseph almost gruffs at the irony, “and we should not let the root of that sin fester inside us.”

He grits his teeth when she shifts in her seat, uncrossing her legs and spreading them just enough to offer him a perfect view of her bare cunt. His cock throbs painfully and he musters all his will to not crack mid sentence. The need washes over him like a tidal wave, raw desire pooling in his gut. And he’s only human. That thought stings like a pin prick, for reasons he doesn't want to dwell on. Her darkened eyes are burning into his skin as she leans forward, her full breasts almost spilling from her dress.  

He glances to the sides, casually, just to make sure no one is setting eyes on his Rook and he draws a breath of relief. The attention of the crowd is on him and him alone. The possessive vein pulsing inside, shrouds his mind, urging him to take her right then and there. 

No.  _ Focus _ . 

_ What was he saying _ ? The brief stop has John and Jacob already leaning forward, inquiring gazes directed at him. Joseph raises both hands and keeps going. 

He forces himself to draw his attention elsewhere, to not dwell on her, but it’s easier said than done. His eyes are pull to Rook as if they were metal to a magnet. He stomps down a growl when she draws her index finger to her lips, seemingly deep in thought, just to suck it gently, her lips pursing enticingly. 

Images of Rook, smiling at him from between his thighs, the tip of his dick disappearing into her mouth, flood his mind. It’d been just one time but everything is scorched in his brain. He clasps the sides of the lectern tightly, knuckles white, as the hot curl of want uncoils in his gut. It’s not lust.  _ It’s not.  _ She’s the only one who makes him feel like this. 

He doesn’t know how, but he finishes the service, stumbling upon words. He beckons to John and Jacob to help him dismiss the faithful, and he’s sure by now John has a pretty tame idea of his predicament. It’s written on his face. Soon everyone is dispersed and away. 

Joseph finally set his eyes on Rook, narrowing them slightly, and nods one the doors close. If that's what she wants, he wouldn’t fight against it anymore. 

//

Rook’s heart thunders in her chest, blood buzzing in her ears as she winds up closer to Joseph, counting her steps as a form of grounding. Has she pushed too far? Her chest rise and fall with every breath she draws, a tingling sensation on her fingertips, trying not to falter under his stern gaze. 

She didn’t want to admit to be bested in her own game, and she could’ve sworn she’d seen a crack in Joseph’s calmness. Rook feels her slick wetness trickling down her thighs, her core aching for the thick fill of Joseph's dick. This is wrong. This is a sinner’s doing, but she can’t hack a low moan as the space disappears between them.  

As soon as she’s within his arm’s reach, Joseph pulls her close, his fingers curling around her arms so tightly she can feel him  _ disrupted _ . His breath puffs against her lips and she trembles under the intensity that radiates from him, her throat going dry. He presses her against a wall, giving her a bruising kiss, all tongue and teeth. She gasps for air the moment he releases her, overwhelmed by the sheer force of what she intentionally unleashed. She huddles closer when he finds her swollen folds, dipping two fingers inside her, and she bites her lip, hoping he finally gives in.

“So this is what you want?” It’s not a scolding, but the tint of his voice isn’t mellow.

He grinds her hips against hers and Rook whimpers, feeling his hard on rubbing her thigh. She wants to answer, wants to blurt out a yes, but he’s pushing words aside as he slides in and out of her, and the only thing she can do is nod.

“On your knees.” 

Joseph’s order threatens to overload her, his voice thick as his need mounts on every word. 

She does as she’s told, not doubting for a second, and a sliver of surprise gleams in her mind at the realization of how much she wants this. To let him do as he pleases and maybe, just maybe she’ll watch that self-control shatter like cracked glass. 

He places a finger under her chin, tilting her head up, a dark smile dancing on those lips she craves to kiss. “You shouldn’t have done that, my dear,” he says. He frees his engorged erection and she can feel herself positively  _ clenching _ .  _ Aching _ . 

“Done what?” She swallows a hard gulp, finally finding her voice, pretending it doesn't affect her, pretending she still has a tinge of control. 

“You know well I’m not one to be teased,” he chides softly. He pops the buttons of her dress open, baring her before him. “What if someone saw you? Did you think of that?” A flash of unhinged anger glimmers behind the yellow tinted glasses but Rook knows it's not aimed at her. 

“You wouldn’t let anyone touch me,” she purrs. 

“You’re are not wrong, my dear.”

He pumps his dick, his rosary swinging from his palm, and she opens her mouth in a thoughtless reaction. Ragged breath in and out, air seems so scarce around her. 

“Are you-- are you really so eager to--” 

Rook has never seen him stepping on his words, but now Joseph looks almost struck dumb. 

“Yes,” she says, flicking his tongue out and winding it around the thick head of his cock; her intentions crystal clear. 

He groans, stricken, leaning down to cup her face. 

He guides himself into her mouth and she takes him in. Rook tries to relax her jaw, otherwise she knows it’ll hurt next morning; a blessed ache regardless. He hisses as soon as she has her tongue flat against his ridges. His fingers flex against her skull, as he slides deeper down her throat.

“That’s my good girl,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “you’re perfect for me--so good, you take my cock so beautifully.”

She sinks her nails on his hips at the first deep thrust, gagging a little. He stills but she quickly bobs her head up and down, trying to show him. She can take it. She  _ wants _ to. Her lips close tightly inches near the base, almost making her choke on his cock but she still manages to swallow obscenely. Her eyes squeeze shut, trying to give steady breaths pressing herself forward. Is worth it because Joseph is fucking her face, too far gone into her wet heat. 

He tightens the grip on her hair, twisting his wrist. “You’re made for me, and me alone, you hear me?” His words are airy, interspersed with grunts and puffs of needed air. 

She makes some kind of _noise_ that resembles a word. That shows she agrees. She knows he’s getting closer when his hips jut forward and his cock pulses in her mouth. A pang of disappointment arrows through her, her cunt aching to be filled, but she hollows her cheeks determined to swallow until the last drop he gives her. In that moment, Joseph stills, hefting her by the shoulders. 

“As much as I’d love to come in your mouth, my darling, I think I need to claim other parts of you as well.” By now his eyes are just a thin rim of blue around dark pools of hunger. It makes her body feel like jello. 

He kisses her again, gruffing a little as he swirls his tongue over teeth and palate, lips demanding against her own and swallowing the overflow of drool she accumulated within. She clings to the broad line of his shoulders, as if it was a lifeline. A sharp whimper is all what her wrecked throat manages. 

Joseph turns her around, bending her over, making her press her hands flat against the wall. She grinds against him. Shamelessly. Some fiction is all she needs. 

“You just need to ask, darling.” He nudges her entrance, teasing her and she knows this is just fair payback, “you’ll always get what you want from me.”

He pushes inside, burying himself to the hilt in one glide, and her hands clench in fists, nails digging in her palms. If she didn’t know him better, she’d think he's as composed as always, but his push is a bit forceful and it would’ve chaffed her if she wasn’t soaking wet by now. She spreads her knees further apart, rotating her hips as if she could drag him deeper, moaning at the hard stretch of his cock. 

Her walls flutter around him, pulsing, his pace harsh from the beginning, making her jerk in her spot. But it feels good, so fucking good she’ll break in no time. His hands slide over her hips, up her waist, one moving up, up, until he’s massaging her breasts. A very gentle squeeze in honest contrast with his hard fucking. 

“My good girl, that’s what you are.”

She can feel the whiff of his panted words on her back, flaring goosebumps on her skin, breath that's catching in his throat in every syllable. She turns her neck, just to see him, and he cups her jaw catching her lips. It's a sloppy kiss, far more animalistic than never before and Rook shudders feeling his hips slamming against her ass. 

“Come for me, darling, come around me, let me look at you,” Joseph whispers, leaning forward, hands curled around her hips. The beads of his rosary brushing intermittently against her thigh.   

Rook suddenly forgets how to breath, how to speak, mind numb by every steadfast touch and the thick fill inside her. “I just-- I-- please,  _ please _ .”

She’s falling apart in a downward spiral, drawn to edge by Joseph fucking her open, testing her limits everytime he ruts against her, and she’s aware of that blissful ache in her cunt that predicts her imminent climax. Every thrust forces a word, a praise, a moan out of her until she finally comes, a whole constellation of stars revolving in her vision, a broken kind of sob rent from her throat and into the room. She loses herself to the ripples of pleasure and the rush of blood in her ears, body going limp. Joseph holds her, pressing flat kisses to the hollow crease of her back, up to the nape of her neck, his hands circling her waist until she’s able to stand on steady legs again. It feels so wet. She can feel it and  _ hear _ it and she’s sure the gush of liquid must’ve soaked Joseph’s pants. He’s not complaining, only grunting at the quivering clench of her core, now practically hammering his way into her, faster and messier. 

“You’re  _ mine _ , my love,” he pants, withdrawing almost entirely just to slam back home. Once. Twice. And again. “You belong to me.”

His pace goes off rhythm, rough and frantic. His release comes swiftly, pulling her closer until her hips are flush with his, filling her up like he always did. A hard gasp is his only telltale.  

When he pulls out, she closes her thighs trying to prevent his come from dripping out. Something that comes natural to her after all this time. Joseph grins watching her, a slow rumble of satisfaction in his chest  and draws her closer. He kisses her again, lips now soft, almost soothing. Calm after a storm.

“I think we may need atonement for this, my darling.”

She sighs, a shaky intake of breath, as her eyes flicker locking on his. “Yeah, I think you may be right.”

Joseph smiles, kissing the heel of her hand. “Come, then, our bed is waiting for us.” 

  
  
  



	5. No way out (Sharky Boshaw x John Seed x F! Deputy - NSFW)

Rook isn’t blind. They’d been living together in that small part of John’s bunker for at least six months, after the main entry collapsed. At first there’d been screams and fights, followed by one, real attempt to burn down John’s stuff using Sharky’s flamethrower. Totally Rooks’ fault. 

But as the months passes, even Rook has to admit John isn’t quite how she imagined, or maybe it was the detoxing from Joseph’s influence. He seems less uptight, less worried by a future that became present and if Rook had to put her finger on it, she’d say he looks more  _ at ease _ . His stupid jokes usually bring chuckles and whole-belly laughs to Sharky’s lips especially when they start working in common projects of the household, and she has to bite her tongue to not follow along. Sharky is smitten and lord be damned, she is too. 

Worst part is she grunts less and less when they share dinner, breakfast or lunch and by the third month, she finds herself sneaking glances at John. Those hands. That beard. And Christ in heaven, those eyes. 

Time spent with Sharky alone, has them frantically trying to fill that space both know is missing, moaning and panting at unison, caressing their bodies as if with just fervor, suddenly they can convene the one they yearn. Hands scratching, teeth raking down sweat-covered skins, until it was too much, too much. 

Eventually Rook snaps. She was taking the matter into her own hands.

“Uh, you sure ‘bout this, shorty?” Sharky asks breathless, splayed on the bed, an arm around her. 

“Fuck yeah, babe, I’m fucking tired to beat around the bushes and I know he’s into us too.”

“Cuz really--”

“C’mon haven’t you seen the way he looks at us?” Rook asks, placing her chin on her hand, comfortably snuggling against his untrimmed chest. 

“I mean not that I wanna be a bone killer babe, but we were kinda humpin’ each other in front of ‘im, so it might’ve been pretty hard not to look at us,” he says placing a soft kiss on the crown of her head, “specially when we’re all sexy and shit.”

She chuckles. “Nah. I’m telling you man, we just have to drag him out of his comfort zone, that's all.”

 

___________________________

John is a creature of habits and Rook knows that night after night he falls asleep perched on his leather chair while reading one of the many books he managed to salvage, drinking a glass of one of the many scotch bottles scattered throughout the bunker. 

Why he decides to black out himself to sleep night after night? She’d a faint idea. 

So that day, they stumble into John’s sanctuary like giggling fools, tongues clashing and teeth clicking in a kiss that is sloppy and needy. They hit the couch when an indignant growl from the previous occupant of the room snap their attention back at him. 

“I’m sorry,” John says trying to hide a scowl, “but don’t you two lovebirds have another room to desecrate?” 

“Banged all of them already, Johnny boy,” she says through the corner of her lip, pulling Sharky again for another kiss. 

“Sorry dude,” Sharky offers, between ragged breaths, “what the lady wants, the lady gets.”

John rolls his eyes, and brings his book closer to his face. He is probably expecting that they’d follow the usual drill, leaving when things got heated and Rook smiles internally. 

She peels her shirt off, snucking glances back over at John, catching the glint of his blue eyes above the line of his book once or twice, always fleeting. Sharky presses his mouth on her neck, sucking bruises on her skin, hands already busy unclasping her bra. She gives a soft, wavering moan when he starts working on her breasts, lips and tongue working in tandem with sharp sucks and broad strokes that has her wanting to be filled to the brim. 

Rook hears John clearing his throat, and for a moment she thinks he’s about to leave the room, but he stays there, a fix presence on the angle of her blurry vision. She takes Sharky’s hood off along with his shirt, peppering his chest with feathery kisses making short work of his pants just as he does the same. If she has appraised the situation wrong, this is the moment when John leaves. Rook flashes a look in his direction, and grins. His eyes are glued to the swell of her breasts, then dipping down to Sharky’s pulsing erection. 

She pushes Sharky to make him seat properly on the couch and straddles him, hovering over his lap. 

“You still sure ‘bout this, shorty?,” he whispers as he nipps her earlobe and she fights to control her whimpers, “why dude hasn’t jumped on us, yet?”

“Give him time,” she mumbles before raising her voice, teasingly, “y’know what babe? Let’s try something different tonight,” sultriness reeking from her voice. 

She turns on her spot, facing John, Sharky’s dick pressing against the cleft of her ass. They were at a point of no return and her eyes fall on the visible hard on straining the fabric of John’s pants. At least their efforts aren’t futile, not that they aren’t enjoying the little show. 

“You brought the lube, Shark?” She asks over her shoulder, without breaking contact with John’s eyes. 

“Always ready,  babe,” he says curling and arm around her waist and sliding up, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger, bringing the bottle forward with the other. 

“You usually walk with lube in your pocket, Charlemagne?” 

Rook smiles at how hoarse John’s voice is, and how he leans back placing his book aside, giving gentle pulls to the front of his pants, his other hand rigidly curved over the armrest.

“And wraps dude, you don’t know when the lady might need it, didn’t they teach you that in school?” Sharky replies with a low voice, nuzzling the nape of her neck. 

She was starting to lose her balance, her breath shallow as Sharky rolls down the condom over his dick and smears a generous amount of lube, pulling her down gently onto his lap. 

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers to her ear pressing a gentle kiss to her jaw, and her bottom lip disappears into her mouth as she nods, the tip of his cock toying against her ass. They’d done this before, often enough to know she can take it. 

John is pinned in place, and she can see the doubt on his face as he fidgets with his belt buckle, fingers clumsy over his lap. He hasn’t said a word, but his eyes spark with a need that she knows has been inching towards since months ago. 

Sharky’s hand slides down her body and he presses a thumb flat against her clit, rolling it lazily, making her thighs quiver and her back arch. Her breath catches in her throat, cracking in small sobs as he slowly pushes upwards and eases her down on his lap. They both groan when he’s finally inside her. 

“You really feel like candy, shorty,” Sharky grunts as she tilts her head back resting on his shoulder. 

She’s whimpering but she barely registers it, as Sharky’s arms snuck under her thighs bringing her back flush against his chest. Rook loves it. Loves the wet drag, stretching her just on the right side of too tight, and tries to move even if she knows she’s completely at Sharky’s mercy. And it kills her. The slow, deliberatly gentle pumps of his hips make her dizzy with want, need, her core throbbing, begging to clench around something that’s not just her soaked fingers. 

Rook stares at John, regarding his face, but promptly her eyes fall and her mouth opens. He has himself in his hand, pumping his dick up and down, at the slow rhythm of Sharky’s thrusts. His tip is red and swollen, already leaking and her stomach churns because there she is, with Sharky balls deep into her ass, offering a prime view of her pussy to John. 

Words mix in her brain and choke on her throat with every push of Sharky’s dick inside her, but she manages to stutter. “Want-- Want to join us, John?”

John seems to consider it for a short second before standing up and saunter forward, reaching to touch her, his cock still in his hand. He thumbs the sharp outline of her hip bone, humming deep in his throat.

“Is this what you want, my dear?” he asks lowering his face to mere inches from hers, breath moist and hot puffing against her lips. 

Her lashes flutter under a roll of Sharky’s hips and she nods under a hard a moan. John kisses her with an intensity that spike butterflies in her stomach, his tongue deftly surveying and pressing inside her mouth. When they break apart, John curls a hand around Sharky’s neck, bringing his forehead against his own. Her heart bursts from seeing the men she  _ loves, _ sharing their bond. 

“Do you have one I can use, Charlemagne?,” John asks, still polite, still controlled, as if he wasn’t about to jump  in a threesome, not planned five minutes ago. 

“Here ya go, Johnny Boy,” he says. 

John chuckles before the evidence they had everything ready to take him down with them. 

“Quite a pair you are, aren’t you?” John quips, rolling the condom over his hard cock, quirking a brow.

“You’ll love us in no time,” Rook says, taking advantage of the full stop to regain some control. She knows once the ride starts, it's going to be one hell of a trip to the end line. 

John lines at her entrance, and slowly pushes in, and her thighs quiver the moment she’s stuffed with both of them in her, heavy pants accompanying the process of melt into one. Nothing could’ve prepared her for that. For that delicious fullness, and her legs would’ve failed her if Sharky didn’t have them already in his arms. Rook digs crescents in John’s shoulders, reveling in the slight pink flush of his cheeks as her heart drums in her ears, and she clenches in response, dragging moans from both of them. Every inch of her body tingles with the need to come, to follow down the precipice that draws near with every pulse of their dicks inside her. 

“Are you ready?” John asks, lovingly tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Don’t worry, shorty, we’re gonna do it nice and slow,” Sharky assures her, nodding at John. 

She nods, and gasps when they withdraw, and then thrust back in. 

There are hoarse growls and grunts, and whinings she recognizes as her own for the high pitch, mixing in the air. Every sound - the heavy breathings, the squelching sounds of her soaked entrances - add to build her own climax and she holds in a thin line between the smothering bodies of the two men eager to please her. 

They start to move now, her ass brushing Sharky’s lap as John pumps into her, pulling her into a wet, sloppy kiss. He hasn’t finished, when she breaks for air, and feels Sharky’s hand, turning her chin, devouring her lips, their flavors now mixing in her mouth and she loves every second of it.  

“Oh god, I’m--”  _ almost there  _ she tries to say, but the words fail her and she hisses between her teeth.

“Yeah, babe?” Sharky asks with an effort, the pet name stressed with a groan, as he keeps moving her up and down his length. 

“All good, darling?” John says as if he wasn’t losing control with every pounding. 

“Yes,” she manages to whisper as every bit of her body starts loosen up. “I just-- you’re both large,” she moans, “you’re not making this easy.”

John smirks and gives a needful thrust, just when Sharky rocks his hips upwards. It’s not too much and it is, all at once. Everything is a haze of feelings and sensations new and flitting, steady and stark, not a single moment of respite for her as their movements intertwined, not leaving her unattended for a second. 

They pick up the pace, and she sees without register the little nods and gestures of the men trying to work their way through it. Every drag and sink is a rush of endorphins, and soon she’s spilling a string of curses as they go deeper, faster, harder, all under her command; the rhythm difficult to establish at the beginning is now a smooth wave that carries her further and further away. 

They are fucking her hard, John ramming into her while Sharky has her bouncing on his cock. Her teeth clench and just like that the cord snaps into the bliss of her orgasm, sweet and exquisite, soaking John’s dick and Sharky’s thighs.

“Oh shit,” Sharky mumbles as he keeps with the learned pace, as John groans, deep and low. 

She’s too far gone, body still shivering under the waves of her climax, to be able to feel the sloppy pace of their thrusts, as they now slam their hips against her without reservations, their staccato moans announcing their own releases.  

Sharky pulls her down in a final movement, staying stock still as he finished and seconds later John follows with minute thrusts of his hips marking his spurts. He collapses forward and in the aftermath of his orgasm she sees a haze of something that resemblance doubt. He’s vulnerable and Rook knows his brain is now going about the ifs and whatnots, as a result of have been so isolated from human contact. 

She isn’t blind. That’s the reason he drinks himself into stupor and she mulls the question over in her head. 

“So John, ready to jump into this,” she makes a loop-like gesture between the three of them, “as whatever this is?” 

She can almost see his train of thought as he entertained the possibility and finally came into realization that he’d grown emotionally attached to the both of them.

“Fuck me, but yeah I am.”

“You won’t regret it, man,” Sharky offers, placing a hand over one of John, “I provide class-A snuggles.”

A flickering tender smile flashes to John lips, before he adds. “Now, as entertaining as this is, I don’t think this is the best scenario to continue with the aforementioned cuddles, so please, let’s go to my room.”

“Why not ours?” Rook asks.

“Well, my bed is bigger and I think we could really make good use of it.”

 


	6. Your destiny, right there (Sharky Boshaw/Female Reader - Unrequited, Sharky Boshaw/Deputy Rook, not NSFW)

"Hop in, chica, gotta take you to this place that's like--like a strategic location for what you doin'."

The midday sun's glare scorched your skin, making you squint and drag an arm across your forehead to dry the fat drops of sweat sitting there. The air bristled with aromas, the surrounding fields giving off a hint of freshly mowed barley, that now mingled with a light note of propane and a touch of musk coming from him. It was intoxicating. 

You haphazardly threw yourself on the passenger seat, cheeks bright red and throat in dire need of a gulp of water. 

"Where we going, Sharky?" There was a slight waver in your voice as you rifled in your backpack trying to count the vials to take water samples. You couldn't help but bite your lip at how much his proximity kept affecting you, how every time he flashed you that smile, the one that lingered in his eyes, quicksilver pools glowing with a warmth, your heart fluttered wildly. Hopelessly. 

"There's a--uh, a lake I think you should check." He cranked the engine, and steered his sight on the highway. 

As someone who could've got lost in her own home town, you were beyond grateful to Mary May to have sent you to his metaphorical - until now - arms. He knew the ins and outs of trudging across wild Montana, as if he was just walking across his living room. Truth was you'd been worried when you realized your project about lakes' pollution needed a bigger sample than the one you already had, and needed to get them before the current semester at college finished. 

It was a good twenty minute ride until finally Sharky slowed down, and the truck stopped near the bank of a pristine lake, tires grating over fine gravel. 

"'Mkay now, you want me to get them for ya?" He was already peeling off his hoodie, and shucking his jeans off with an enthusiasm that was utterly infectious. 

He'd offered himself for the task from day one, trying to alleviate any hard labor from your shoulders, claiming it was a good opportunity to freshen up in the ungodly heat. You squinted under the heavy brilliance, admiring not for the first time the multicolor landscape of this side of the County. 

"Sure," you said kneeling to take the vials out of your backpack, handing them to him, "just try not to collect too much mud this time, please?"

"Don't worry, amigo, I think I got the nuts and bolts of this shit." 

You watched him enter the lake in nothing but his boxers, your eyes taking in the sight of him, putting to good use the fact he was obviously focused in doing what you asked for. The first time he'd taken his clothes off, your eyes had widened of their own accord, sliding down the lean muscles of his back and chest, and you'd thanked your luck he wasn't paying attention because your face had gone through several shades of red before it stuck in a soft pink that you were able to mask as just exertion. 

He was so easy to talk to and funny to a point you couldn't keep a straight face every time he was determined to make you smile. Which was often, not that you were complaining. And so, falling down that rabbit hole had been unexpected and inevitable, and now you were head over heels with his scrawny ass. 

Everything would've been easier if he wasn't so damn handsome, and you could've just shaken off the inconvenient crush. But when he turned and faced you, smiling as he shook one of the newly filled vials, and your gaze slid down his abs following his happy trail, you knew you were sunk down in a pit too deep. 

The sad part was that he didn't seem to notice what he stirred in you, treating you like a friend and nothing more. Not that you haven't tried to move him to act, a little touch here, and a hand lingering there, but a whole month and you were still empty handed. 

A sudden sloshing of water brought you back to reality seeing him proudly showing you his work. 

"Got everything you needed, chica." 

You tried not to give a wide display of your throat, when you felt your jaw unhinge seeing him closer, water beads lazily rolling down his body and stopping in the most inconvenient places. 

"Thanks, Shark man." 

Taking the precious cargo of his hands, you focused on the task of putting them neatly away while he decided to sprawl next to you, like a taunt to your senses. 

"Now I kinda need to dry my underwear, cuz I lost the spare ones," he said stretching on the yellow grass, skin glimmering under golden rays. "What you wanna do now? Any more uh, places you gotta look at?" 

"Not really," you replied, "but we could go and grab a cold one at the Spread Eagle if you want?" You shrugged trying to feign nonchalance but your heart was hammering against your ribcage, its rhythm drumming in your ears as well. 

"Gotta say I like how you think." He switched onto his belly, exposing his black-clad rear to the shining sun, "not gonna lie to you, chica, I uh, I always thought college girls were all-all uptight and y'know, not nice, but you ain't like that."

A soft chuckle escaped you. "Well, thanks, man. You ain't that bad either." There was a quiver in your stomach at the downplay of your own feelings, regretting the shyness that prevent you to chase some other course of action, because you'd be gone in less than a day, and all this would scatter into fond memories. You sighed. "So it's that a yes?" 

"Fuck yeah, count me in," Sharky nodded, "just wait 'til I don't feel like I pissed myself and we're good to go." 

The almost faint notes of a Diana Ross' song blasting from the car, wafted in the air, tangling with the stifling atmosphere, and everything was making you dizzy. You fought the urge to touch him, maybe brush two inches of his skin and finally find the courage to voice the feeling you had been trying to disregard for the last month. 

"Y'know, chica? I'm gonna, uh, I'm gonna miss ya," he said covering his face with his cap under the blazing sun. "Had a good time doing all that science shit--- go figure, a dumb dropout like me."

"You are not dumb, Sharky," you scolded him. It was something that ground your gears to no end, seeing how easily was for people disregard how smart he really was, throwing the same argument over and over again: dumb failure, you ain't more than a school dropout. "If it wasn't for you I would've failed big time so let's just say this is also yours."

His chuckle rang in your ears from beneath his cap, until he finally leaned on his elbows and looked at you. "You're a real friend dude," he said, grinning. 

The weight of his words sagged your shoulders a little and you lowered your eyes to the gravel surrounding the blue lake. Not something you wanted to keep on dwelling. 

"Aight, then." You stood up with a brisk movement, before the blushing had time to creep up your cheeks. "Let's go get that beer."

\----------

"... and last thing I knew I was smooching it right in the fuckin nose, open mouth and all."

A gurgle of laughter rippled out of you, while images of his story flitted through your mind. An hour had passed in the most perfect way, while you both shared stories over beers. But nothing had peaked this one yet. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, dude-- I'm tellin' ya, that skunk? Meaniest dink ass I'd ever--" 

"Kissed?" You offered, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm sorry-- I'm sorry, that was rude." 

"Bet your ass it was," he said, without stop grinning, taking a swig from his bottle. "Don't expect my dates to almost rip my lips off, which it did-- motherfucker left a huge scar here, see?" 

When Sharky leaned forward, your heart shivered in your chest, and you regretted you both were sitting side to side, without the table in between to dampen your stupid reactions. 

He stopped a scant inch from your face, pouting, his lower lip on display so you could see a faint scar on it. It must've been the alcohol, and the fact it was round number four and your stomach was as empty as a wallet before payday, and suddenly it was impossible to quash down your leaping heart, his closeness rattling the sundry feelings revolting in you. 

You pressed your lips against his, hearing a surprised gasp dying in your mouth. It was soft and warm and your hands fell to his thighs, supporting you in your eagerness. 

But as soon as the comfort of the yearned place came, it swiftly vanished. 

"Woah, woah, there," Sharky panted, clasping you gently by the shoulders, lips red and breath stuttered, "what you doing, amigo?" 

There was no anger in his voice, just the soft frowning of bafflement, metal-grey gaze delving into you, deep enough to break your flimsy hopes. 

"I'm--I'm sorry, Shark, I don't know what happened to me I just---" You tried not to show him any tears, but it was harder than you thought. One drop, and then another, streaks ran down your cheeks, completely out of your control and the desire to just bolt and run into the night churned in your stomach. 

"Hey, hey, easy there," he said, signaling someone for a glass of water and hugging you in a way that made everything more painful. But you couldn't push him away.

When the glass of water came, he made you drink it in three short gulps, until your intake of air evened out. 

"Hey, chica, I'm super flattered y'know?" He cupped your cheek, lightly thumbing the rim of your jaw while you struggled not to run away fueled by embarrassment. "Like, you're real cute, ok? And so fuckin' smart, but I mean, you're way too young--" 

"I just turned 20, I know what I want," you retaliated. 

Sharky only chuckled, tilting his head back. "'Kay then, big you, still-- you got all that long ass life to live and probably gonna end up with someone who's far better than me-- I mean I'm pretty great, don't get me wrong," he said, and you huffed a short and hoarse laugh, "but y'know-- cherry, I ain't enough for ya."

You were about to tell him how wrong he was, how misdirected his guessings were, when you caught movement in your peripheral vision. It was one of Sheriff's Whitehorse deputies. The newest one if your memory didn't fail you. 

"Everything good 'round here?" They placed a hand on Sharky’s shoulder, and you saw him positively turn beet red under his cap. Your eyes were drawn to their face, white flashing through plump lips in an honest smile.

"Yeah, officer, uh-just, uh, just saying goodbye to a friend," Sharky said stumbling upon words on a higher rate than normal. 

"Ah, well, sorry to interrupt, then." They gave a slight nod, dimples coming to life on a warm face, and they were gone, boots tapping against the wooden floor. 

You saw Sharky following them with starved sight, eyes almost swaying with the cadence of their walking and a hard knot formed in your stomach. 

It was clear as day. After all, you'd seen his whole shenanigans for a month, time long enough so you could realize he had a crush, the size of a wild moose, on the Junior Deputy. 

Not much you could do, as much as it hurt. 

You found your voice amidst the inner turbulence. "Y'know man? You should pursue that," you said with an almost complicit smile, wiping your tears. 

Watching Sharky ambushed by feelings was a whole show. "What? Nah, you got it wrong, sweets- I mean they're a fucking cop, we're like natural enemies--" 

You scoffed. "Sure, man, whatever helps you sleep at night, still," you added, "they're really cute."

"The fuck you're talking about, chica?" 

"Oh, c'mon, don't be such a liar."

He remained silent for a few seconds before finally springing up, giving you a hand. 

"You really think so?" He almost whispered. 

Your illusions and desires scattered in the air. But he was your friend, and if that was the bond that should remain, you were determined to honor it. 

"Yeah, man. Who knows? Maybe that's your destiny right there."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Release (Joseph Seed x F! Deputy - NSFW)

It’s amazing how less cooped up the bunker seems with every passing month. She watches Joseph fumbling with a pickle jar, trying to prepare the scarce dinner they share every night. Rook can't stop noticing alarming new things day in and day out, just like she’s doing right now. It’s the twist of his hand. Definitely. Or the flush of his cheeks. Or perhaps the way his brow furrows, wracking the immutably calmed expression of his face. Rook isn’t sure and can’t pin down the exact motion that makes her gut stir, but there it is. He grunts under a heavy sigh and she titters at how ridiculous the whole situation is. 

“It’s stuck,” he apologizes, giving a final try, flexing his biceps under the mild exertion, another sign that doesn’t go unheeded, as her fluttering stomach can vouch. 

A tinge of color blooms on her cheeks. “God, you’re so useless,” she blurts out in the middle of a jag of laughter carefully elicited to hide her state.

She swings her legs on the stool, finally coming down and reaching for the jar. “It’s not about brute force.” She grabs a spoon, giving gentle taps to the side of the lid for a few seconds. “There, try now.”

Joseph takes the jar from her hand, grazing her fingers while doing so. There’s a small quiver somewhere in her chest that she tries desperately to stomp down. Yes. She still balks at the idea, thinking whatever she may feel is bound to be repaid with a sharp rebuff from Joseph’s part. They have a history together after all, and it’s not a good one. 

“Praise the Lord! We have pickles.”

Rook jolts out of her inner dilemma to see him smiling. So genuinely. She smiles as well. “Dinner has been significantly improved,” she says serving herself from the bowl they share, silencing her floundering thoughts, “god, Joseph, really, how have you managed ‘til now?”

He knits his brows, a hint of amusement on his face. “What do you mean?”

“You are bested by pickle jars, you hate peanut butter sandwiches-”

“I didn’t think you noticed,” he says with a glint of mirth in his blue eyes, “we usually don’t have breakfast together.”

“Well, I uhm-- I did notice,” she plainly states, hoping the creeping blush on her cheeks won’t belie her hidden feelings.

He says nothing, just doing what she expects and hopes for every night. “It’s time to say Grace.” Joseph extends his arms over the mantelpiece, palms up, and waits for her to do what she knows must be done. A little something she indulges in, because after all these months she still sinks and drowns in a morass of guilt for her past actions. 

She reaches forward and places her hands over his, enjoying the contact and the current of electricity that careens through her just by the mere touch. Which is silly. Rook stares at him intently as Joseph recites verses with that faint lilt she has grown fond of. 

So few months. Yet so many things had changed, time dwindling her reservations, disrupting everything she believed in and allowing her to see-- to see him. To see him just as Joseph. Forgiving and kind, in equal contrast to her bitterness. 

“I have something for you after dinner,” Joseph says after finishing his prayer, his hands still trapping hers.

Her cheeks turn red yet again, her mind trudging through a skew alleyway at his words. Hoping-- “Oh?”

“It’s a very small thing,” he says venturing his eyes back down to his plate and gently pulling his hands away. 

Suddenly Rook is very aware of every inch of space between them, as forks clatter against plates, and the buzz of the generator buffers the heavy silence. 

When the meal ends, Joseph clears the dishes out of the table, taking them to the small sink and then crouching in front of a cupboard, retrieving a small bag that he promptly places on the table. 

“These are for you,” he says, voice almost wavering, as she finally realizes what he has in his hands. 

A bag of chocolate cookies. 

Rook can’t stop the annoying butterflies flitting in her stomach. For such a small gesture, it’s incredible the amount of things it’s stirring inside her. “Thanks, I uh-- where did you get them?”

“I found them while organizing the pantry,” he says smoothly, and Rook truly feels the pull of his charisma while looking at those captivating eyes in front of her. “I remembered you said-” he clears his throat, a fist in front of his lips, “I remember you said those were your favorite.”

She blinks, taking in the whole gesture. “Did I?”

Joseph nods, and Rook clutches the bag, swallowing a bit of the nostalgia choking her throat, memories clashing with reality. A small gesture at the other side of damnation, doesn’t quite taste the same and yet-- She can still see yonder, and have hope. With him. Because of him. “Thank you Joseph-- God,  _ I love you. _ ”

She instantly stiffs before throwing herself to reach the door over the loud clunk of her stool hitting the ground. But he is faster. 

“What did you say?” Joseph asks, clasping her wrist and moving just to a few torturous inches from her. 

Rook is exhausted. Of hiding it. Of nitpicking things about him to help her navigate their life together. “You heard me,” she says, chin held high, but unable to hide the hangdog expression on her face. Her next words gush out unbidden. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t look nonplussed or even rattled, the corner of his lips quirking in a tender smile. “Never be sorry, my dear,” Joseph says cupping her chin with calloused fingers, brushing her forehead with his. “I love you as well,” he whispers on her mouth.

Rook gapes at him for a short second, but she doesn’t have much time to go about the ifs and whatnots before he’s pressing his lips against hers. They’re soft and moist, eager and fervent in their caresses. His tongue is deftly and smooth against hers, tracing the seams of her mouth as his hands travel to her hips to draw her closer. Her heart quickens its pace, feeling his control tattering with every movement. His maddening taste blows open in her mouth and sweeps already threaded sentences off her mind, making her gut clench in anticipation when he pulls her closer. 

“I love you so much, my dear,” Joseph finally says breathless, and it makes her chest swell with warm bliss, just realizing her arms are already laced around his neck. “You’re everything to me.” 

“I- I didn’t--” She stutters finishing with a moan when he melds their lips again. 

The kiss stretches for long seconds,  a hot blush washing in a prickly wave from her cheeks down to her chest . Joseph is flush to her, one hand waved in the soft locks of her hair, the other at the small of her back and his erection pressing against her lower abdomen. 

“Joseph I need- I--” She says, inhaling sharply. 

He swallows audibly. “Come.”

They make the way to her cot in a silent rush, under flickering lights. Everything resumes when they fall on the bed, Rook straddled atop Joseph, hands exploring and roving over unfamiliar territories. He groans in her mouth, and grinds his hips against hers as the floor soon is strewn with discarded pieces of clothing and she can feel every inch of his bare skin in contact with hers.   

“I’ve been waiting for you, loving you, wanting you,” he rasps with hot breath against her neck, every word stressed with a searing kiss on her skin, “for a long time now, my love.”

He grounds her hips against his lap, her folds pressing against his cock. For a moment he lets her go, switching his position until his back is resting against the headboard. “Come,” he says reaching both hands towards her. 

She lets out a shuddery breath when her fingertips brush against his palms. God, she wants him. Has she always wanted him? Perhaps, but it’s not something to consider right now. 

She clambers into his lap, and kisses him as he slides his hands down her back, anchoring them at her hips. His fingers dig in her flesh a little when he grinds up against her. “Are you sure about this, my dear?”

“Yes,” Rook moans between kisses, goading him to keep nibbling at her collarbone, “please, yes--”

And just to show him her want, she raises up on her knees and takes his pulsing cock in her hand, the perfect, thick curve arching towards his belly. He gasps as she pumps him, reveling the small drops of pre-come oozing from the tip. Rook hovers over his lap, clasping his neck to hold him in place and pushes down. Her mind tumbles, overwhelmed with the tidal of emotions arrowing through her, and she shivers seeing his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open. 

He moans, burrowing his face into her neck, but doesn’t move, allowing her to go as slow as she wants. Their gasps blend into the sweltering atmosphere once he’s fully seated inside her, and she’s taken aback by the raw emotion in his eyes, as he finally starts moving. Rook can feel his girth testing her limits, the stretch stinging a mite with every lazy downstroke, her cunt full and tight around him. She creases her brow and looks down, tracing the place where they’re joined together, sliding his fingers just where she stretches to accommodate him. 

He looks at her face, gaze flitting between her eyes and her bottom lip, that she’s chewing in concentration. “I’m not hurting you? am I?” Joseph asks, his breath puffing against the line of her jaw, stilling inside her. 

She smiles at him. “Not at all, you feel amazing.”

Rook sets a slow pace, but the little sounds Joseph makes every time she drops down, hips slapping against hips, are driving her to speed up. His moans are heartfelt, almost longing and she’s certainly touched by it. Leaning forward he catches her nipple in his mouth and she arches when he starts sucking hard, his beard scratching against her skin. Her heart thumps in her ears, as she goes faster and harder, now practically riding him among helpless moans and airy grunts Joseph makes every time he bottoms out. 

She’s sure she’ll lose her mind. His hands grip her hips, and she’s sure her cheeks are flush hearing the rich wet sounds of his powerful thrusts. “Oh, my love--” Joseph says, words shadowed by a strangled moan, “you are exquisite.”

She's lost in his starry blue eyes, her mind shrouded by how good he feels inside her, and how his lips gingerly brush hers, his kisses reverent. 

The familiar pleasure uncoils in her belly and her wailings bounce off the bedroom. “Oh, god, Joseph,” she says, “oh yes,  _ please!” _ In other circumstances, she would’ve tried to tone down the high pitch of her voice, but they’re all alone. At the other side of tomorrow.

She feels Joseph clinging to her as the movement of his hips become more frantic and he buries a grunt in her sternum, bucking his hips against hers as he finally spills inside her.

They lay in each other’s arms, trying to regain their faltering breaths as she melts in his embrace, Joseph carding his fingers tenderly through her hair. 

“We’re made for each other, darling,” he whispers in her ear, languorous caresses across her back, “it just took us the end of the world to find out.”

She smiles, drooping her head on his shoulder, thinking that maybe, just maybe, things can start anew.  At the end they have each other. They’ll be ok. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Healing Hands (John Seed x F!Deputy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi, the peggie belongs to my friend Too Many Seeds (on AO3).

It’d been a bad idea now that she ran her train of thoughts backwards. Attacking Seed Ranch under the moonlight, half-wasted and maybe a bit bliss-highed, under the blurry daydream everything was just an extension of her Metal Gear Solid campaign was stupid. And it wasn’t even a pivotal stratagem because as far as she knew, the younger Seedling was still tucked away in his harrowing dungeon at the Bunker. 

 

But she needed to prove a point. To herself. She needed to know she wasn’t afraid of coming back and jump head first into the free-for-all clusterfuck in Hope County. She unconsciously dragged her fingertips over her scarred chest while memories of her close encounter with the self proclaimed Baptist harred through her mind.  _ No, she wasn’t afraid of John _ . But fuck, the injury still hurt her pride. And she’ll well damn return the favor, snatching his own house from under his very nose. 

 

In a haze, her hand closed around the trigger of her sniper rifle and aimed. If only her targets would stop wobbling.  _ Really, drinking while working _ . These peggies had no shame. She took the shot, but the bullet collided against a flammable cylinder next to the porch, exploding in a magnificent fire Sharky would definitely have approved. 

 

“ _ Oops. _ ”

 

The flames licked the balustrade, now spreading to the stairs and she revelled with a devilish grin in the bewilderment and panic painted in the faces of the peggies. 

 

“Put that fire down, and someone explain to me how this happened!” A man in a leather trench coat, probably the one in charge, moved hurriedly among the crowd that had gone haywire. “Brother John is going to be furious!”

 

She stifled a laugh biting the flap of her flannel, and adjusted her scope, drawing a bead on yet another red cylinder. Unfortunately the alcohol had damped her reflexes significantly and she tripped with the root of a nearby tree. 

 

“You hear that?” A nearby man, dressed in the unfashionable peggie-mayonnaise craned his neck to where she was hiding, and slowly trod in her direction. 

 

_ Oh fuck _ . She drew her pistol and turnt up as she was her shots missed the peggie’s head by good five inches hitting him in the shoulder. Mayhem unleashed at the first blast throwing to the trash bin her stealthy maneuvers.

 

“Sinners!”

 

The outside of the house crawled within seconds with a heavily armed crew, as bullets snickered in the air, rippling the silence around her. She rolled to a side, as her previous spot was soon overrun by overzealous goons looking for her blindly. She took one, two, three guards down, before dodging enemy gazes behind a bush at the very front of the house, choking with the smell of gunsmoke. 

 

“There! Behind those bushes!”

 

Shit was getting problematic. Her attention snapped at the shouted words, her ears ringing by the bullets landing closer and closer to her, and before she could veer off course, two projectiles shredded the skin of her arm and abdomen. 

 

She yelped loudly. It hurt like a motherfucker. 

 

“Stop the fire!”

 

She paled to her lips.  _ Damn _ . She knew that voice; that cloying tone still sending shivers down her spine. Fighting through the agonizing pain, she lifted her eyes and her ragged breath caught in her throat. Apparently her intel was wrong.  _ Fucking Dutch _ . John Seed stood at the threshold, slowly descending the partly charred stairs with that smug walk of his that she found equally magnetizing and loathsome. 

 

Everyone froze in place as he closed the distance to where she was hunched down, soaked in her own blood, drawing breath after breath to quell her... _ fear _ ?

 

“Take her inside,” he said signaling to a burly man that stood with his head bowed next to him. The darkness and the loss of blood made everything seem bleary, so she wasn’t sure if his words really carried streaks of concern or was just her heart thundering in her ears. His blue eyes could’ve carved her soul, etching deeper than his needle. 

 

“Fuck off John. I rather take a bullet to the head than spent a minute with you alone,  _ again _ .” She hawked blood and saliva at his feet, glaring at him. She knew it was futile, like the pathetic little roars of a kitten trapped in a dark alley. 

 

A gamut of emotions flickered on his face and she could’ve sworn pain waved back at her for a fleeting second, before disappearing behind a self-satisfied grin. 

 

“Don’t tempt me my dear.” 

 

She huffed and kicked hopelessly when his subordinate carried her bridal style into the house but her legs felt shaky and weak, and the effort puffed all the air out of her lungs. She shot a final glance behind her where another peggie picked up her forgotten rifle and pistol, dragging them away from her. She grunted. 

 

Once they were inside, she chewed down a malicious comment. So much for humbleness. John Seed’s Ranch was lush and elegant, looking more like a luxurious lodge than a battle post.

 

“Put her in the couch,” John said standing at the center of the living room. 

 

She untangled her arms of the unfairly broad shoulders of the peggie as he placed her down carefully. He gave her a final mistrustful gaze, and stood next to the door. 

 

“Should I post guards at the door, Brother John?”

 

John fidgeted with a pocket knife before closing it, placing it on the coffee table, a lopsided grin tugging his lips. “No, Levi. She’s barely a threat at this point.”

 

His comment lit the fire in her blood. “Maybe you should listen to Levi, John.” She cocked an eyebrow, stomping down a wince, as her side and arm throbbed in pain. 

 

“Leave us,” John said to the peggie, ignoring her completely. 

 

Her heart was thumping so hard, she could feel it under every inch of her skin, whatever amount of blood left in her system pooling in her cheeks. 

 

“Relax my dear,” he said sauntering towards her, his boots tapping against the wooden floor as the tickle of a doomsday clock, drawing closer and closer. “I’m not going to hurt you, trust me.” He sat at the edge of the couch, face relaxed and attentive. 

 

“Ah- kinda hard to believe man,” she said, brows furrowed, trying to scoot backwards and away from him, “last time you were very determined to do some very hard damage.”

 

John drew a hand forward, as if he intended to touch her and she shivered. He heaved a sigh, pulling back. “I think you need medical attention first, Deputy.” 

 

“Yeah, so ah- could you let me go?” she asked as he stood up, fumbling between the things of a near cabinet. 

 

“So you can bleed out on your way to wherever is you’re going?” His voice came muffled as he was half stuck into the mahogany furniture. 

 

Sweat beads fell down her forehead, flyaway strands of hair sticking to her temples. “You said so yourself, I need medical attention,” she bit back, fighting back a grimace.

 

He made his way back to her, holding a  _ first aid kit _ .  _ Oh great _ .

 

“And that’s what you’re getting,” he said sitting again next to her. “Now sit still and let me take a look.”

 

He took gauze and clean cloth along with a peroxide bottle and some antiseptic gel out of the box. She bit her lower lip. There wasn’t much she could do in her position, and who was she to look the gift horse in the mouth. If he was offering his help, she could well accept it to ebb away the ache in her body. After all, she didn’t want to see wrath flooding him as she’d seen in the bunker. 

 

So she held her arm in front of him. 

 

“This is just a scrap, you’ll be fine,” he said brushing gently the red burned flesh, grabbing her wrist with a merciful grip, almost kind. Almost  _ tender _ . 

 

What the hell was going on? 

 

“That’s a relief.” The irreality of the situation was kicking her in the gut. Only three weeks ago this same man had thrown her into hell, alive and breathing, searing in her mind memories too gruesome to forget.

 

“Now, darling, where is the other?” he said, throwing the bloodied cloth on a trash bin and preparing a new one. 

 

She flushed beet red. Modesty wasn’t something she particularly enforced, especially not under duress but there was something about John that rattled her walls, whether she wanted to admit it or not. “Ah…”

 

“We don’t have all day my dear Deputy.” He looked at her with a tinge of exasperation. 

 

Her breath was shallow but she managed to control it. “Okay, fine, fine, hold on.” She pulled off her torn shirt, placing it in the floor and twisted her upper body so he could see the wound at the side of her abdomen. 

 

There was a slight delay in his answer she didn’t fail to notice. “It looks- uh, it looks nastier than the other one,” John said, flicking out his tongue in an unconscious gesture, barely grazing her skin with shaky fingers in a place Rook didn’t feel any pain at all. 

 

“Uh, John?” she side eyed him, watching him struggle to keep his charming, nonchalant facade. 

 

He inhaled deeply and the air let out his lungs in a short blow. “I’m sorry my dear, I’ll clean this right away.”

 

He started working on her skin with the precision of a surgeon, shushing her when the pain of the chemics burned her skin and she cried out. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” She said with a low moan as the pain began to subside, her head buried in her arms, as he kept working. 

 

“I doubt a ‘no’ would deter you of doing so, darling.” He shot her a sincere smile and something tumbled in her stomach. 

 

_ Pathetic _ .

 

“Am I leaving your Ranch in a coffin?” she spluttered, brushing aside the flurry of emotions galloping inside her. 

 

“Don’t be absurd. If I wanted you dead I would’ve done so before you torched half my property and killed half my guards,” he said casually, as he spread the gauze, dressing her wound. “No, Deputy. I don’t want you dead. I want  you saved.”

 

And there he was again. The John she knew, but severely toned down, the maniacal edges that flickered to life during their last encounter, subdued. 

 

“Thanks?” She offered. “I don’t understand, last time was so-”

 

“Rough?” He cut her off, chuckling. “I know, and I should apologize.”

 

Her face shifted from curiosity to certified wariness. “Excuse me?”

 

He finished his handiwork and leveled his gaze with hers.  _ Christ in Heaven, those blue eyes _ . Sometimes cold as lakes in the winter, yet other times filled with warm, sparkling life as it was the case right now. 

 

“After you left, Joseph spoke to me, and he, eh, he showed me my ways were wrong, that I wouldn’t get what I--,” he stopped and cleared his throat, “what the Project wants from you out of fear.”

 

“And what’s that?”

 

“That you truly accept  _ us _ in your heart.”

 

A clear laughter rang in her ears. Her own laughter. The sound so unfamiliar, it cracked a shudder on her body. 

 

“And how do you intend to do that?,” she asked, certainly curious. 

 

He stood up and placed the first aid kit away and her body complained silently and unwittingly for his absence. “I want to show you that pain is not the only thing I--,” he sighed, shaking his head, “that we can offer you. I want to show you that is love what opens the Gates, and you should embrace it.”

 

Her mouth had gone dry, and she was barely able to resist as John came back and effortlessly swooped her in his arms. Solid, muscular arms, that lifted her as if she was light as a feather. The minty spice of his scent flared up her nose, eliciting a sigh she was determined to attribute to her dog-tired state. This wasn’t happening. Maybe she was stuck in one of Faith’s fucking Bliss crops, dozing off and any minute now Sharky was going to wake her up setting her on fire by accident. As a hundred times before. 

 

He carried her up the stairs to an empty room with a full size bed, and placed her on top. 

 

“This will be your home for a while,” he said sitting next to her and tucking auburn strands of hair behind her ears and everything she could do was look at him, astonished and rattled. “Don’t think about leaving, my darling, because everything you need is here.”

 

He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and walked away. As she saw him disappearing from her sight the thought that haunted her the most was that to her dismay, leaving, was the last thing on her mind.     

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  



End file.
